Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover
by Kitsune1978
Summary: Temari looks at him. Relaxed into his chair, he sports his usual emotionless expression, his white robe effectively concealing his casual clothing, the dark red coat. Finally Temari's eyes focus on the scar on his left temple. 'How does the saying go? Don't judge a book by its cover,' she thinks.


I do not own characters nor places created by Kishimoto.

Warning: the rating is given for a reason, even though there are no graphic scenes.

Pairings: GaaMatsu, hints of ShikaTema

Enjoy.

o0o0o0o

 **Don't judge a book by its cover**

Temari hates to be bored. She wants to be surprised, she likes when something's going on around her, because she needs to train. Her skill with remaining composed and keeping her cool in any circumstances needs constant training. That's why she wishes to be shocked with new and new events. And when everything gets boring, at least in Temari's opinion, she takes the initiative. After all, the wind is her element, and the wind is everything but boring. It's always in motion, tousling hair, stirring up the sand, making trees sway. Naturally, there are no trees in Sunagakure, but Temari doesn't care. The trees are too fixed for Temari's liking. In short, they're boring.

If people were elements, she would be a wind and her youngest brother would be an earth. A desert. A quicksand. With him, a little carelessness can bring a disaster. A step taken in the wrong direction, and you're doomed. You're buried in sand.

Temari can still remember it vividly but it's not like that anymore. She remembers and she will never forget her lessons of walking across quicksand without being buried. It wasn't boring, oh no. Sometimes she even yearned for peace. She imagined a future without quicksand in it.

A nameless god made her wish come true. Gaara is not a quicksand anymore. He's more like a night in the desert, calm, and quiet. Fixed.

Boring.

Temari looks at him. Donned in his spotless white robe, he sits at the huge desk, where their father had sat once. With a slow, patient, steady brushes, he signs letters, orders, edicts, treaties. Occasionally he sips a black tea from his mug. He's concentrated, withdrawn, devoted to what he believes should be done. He's been like that before, only now he works to build a better future, not to destroy it.

Gaara looks almost happy, and Temari's heart beats wildly at the sight. True that he found happiness at enormous cost. Temari doesn't even know if she would be ready to pay such a price if she was in his place. Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately? - she's not in his place. She's next to him, and she's watching.

She's watching two ninjas and a kunoichi coming inside. The wind mistress heard their voices even before they went into the office. Gaara must have heard them too, but he didn't even do as much as raise his head, still dealing with the papers. There's no tension in him which would be a proof that he actually wants to look away from the stack of documents. He's writing slowly, deliberately, the pen never leaving the paper, as its wielder ignores Darui, Matsuri, and Yaoki, until the signature is done.

Temari doesn't understand. She would understand if Gaara and Matsuri were an elderly couple. A long term relationship doesn't require any confirmation, in opposite to the young, pasionate lovers. But Gaara and Matsuri started dating only a few months ago. Of course, it's not a secret to anyone who was at least a little observant that they fell in love with each other much earlier but they were sure that the other didn't feel the same. Watching them was a real pain. There was such a tension between them that it overwhelmed every place they were in. Now Temari misses the tension because she expected many things from Gaara and Matsuri's relationship but she would have never believed that it could be... boring?

Finally, Gaara raises his head and gazes at his ninjas. Darui, the leader of the team, speaks rather quietly. Gaara's eyes wander from face to face, and three ninjas nod officially. If Temari didn't know that Gaara and Matsuri are the couple, she would have never guessed it. Matsuri goes to the mission, and she'll be away from the village for an entire week but judging from her attitude she doesn't care. Gaara doesn't seem to care either.

And what if they _don't_ care? What if they discovered that their relationship is not what they dreamed of? What if the fire has burnt out?

Temari finds it hard to believe. True that Matsuri had seemed to be superficial, and naive once, gushing over guys' looks only. Some thought she would be unable to form a relationship. The war changed her for the better; at least Temari thought so. Gaara never was naive nor superficial. Temari's sure that her youngest brother chose Matsuri not because he was infatuated. Is it even possible that Gaara would be infatuated? In Temari's opinion, Gaara gave some thought to his future, and he decided that he wanted Matsuri in it. He's stubborn, after all. He's patient, calm, thoughtful. Unrelenting even. And most of all, he's stable, more a like a solid rock than a quicksand.

Those are good traits. Sometimes Temari is jealous; she wishes she could be like Gaara, because she's lacking patience and calmness. But sometimes, only sometimes, she also wishes Gaara would have more fire within him.

o0o0o0o

 _A week later._

It's the late evening, and Temari walks down the empty corridors of the Kazekage Tower. There is no one there, only a single guard passes by. Since the war, all hidden villages live at peace, and Sunagakure is peaceful, too. The number of guards has been reduced, the council meets not so often as before. At the moment, all elders are in their homes. Only the Kazekage stays in his office until the nightfall. Temari has never seen anyone working so hard, and she doesn't know if she should be proud or worried. Behind the corner there is a door, and Temari reaches for the knob, pushing the door abruptly.

"Gaara—"

There's no one there.

Temari frowns, and looks around. The lights are off and the Kazekage's chair is turned away from her, facing the large, round window. Maybe Gaara is sitting in it, watching the village. The kunoichi approaches the chair, even if her trained senses tell her that the room is empty. Gaara always keeps his chakra level low but in the office she would have sensed him anyway.

Of course, the chair is unoccupied.

Puzzled, Temari shrugs. It seems that her brother has finally found his reason, and went to his room instead of staying here for too long. But the kunoichi can't deny a small sting of panic jabbing deep within her. Her motherly instincts kick in, and she decides to go to his room immediately. What if he's not feeling well?

Gaara won't be happy, oh no. He dislikes being looked after. Temari knows that but it doesn't stop her. Closing the door quietly, she walks down the corridor, heading towards the staircase. Her own room, and Gaara's one as well, are located on the last floor.

The corridors are dark, quiet, and empty, but Temari can hear the distant murmur of voices coming from the lower floors. The sound distracts her. She climbs the stairs, reaches another floor where guest rooms are, and suddenly her ears pick up something... A moan?

She stops, alarmed, instinctively grasping her fan. She can't locate the source of the sound precisely yet, because there's quite an echo in these corridors. She's more than certain though that someone is groaning and sighing there, and there is also rustling of the fabric. Temari's imagination kicks in, and she can almost see a guard lying there, a wounded guard, crawling on the floor.

Wait. Are there female guards in the Kazekage Tower? Last time Temari checked there weren't.

The kunoichi strains her ears. The female panting, moaning, whispering and breathing is unmistakable, and Temari raises her eyebrow. Soon she can also hear voices. They are so quiet, on the edge of hearing, but she can still recognize them.

Of course she does.

"This week has been—so damn long that I—" Gaara whispers, and Temari's jaw drops slightly. A few grunts later he continues. "—that I thought I would lose my—damn mind—"

Oh well. Temari had always thought that Gaara and foul language didn't mix.

"Yeah—" comes the breathy answer, followed by more rustling, and the faint sound of suckling and nipping. "I couldn't—aah!—wait, too—G-Gaara!—Let's go to—mhmm—your room—"

"I want nothing more than that," Gaara whispers hoarsely. "But that would involve—letting you go—for a moment—and I—" He moans. "—and I don't think I can manage—that."

Temari's rooted to the spot, quite unable to believe what she's hearing. Are there really Gaara and Matsuri making out in the empty tower corridor?

True that Darui's team went to the mission a week ago. They were expected to come back anytime soon. In the old times, they would have to give a report immediately after coming back to the village. In the new times, people are relaxed, and the rules are not so strict anymore. The rest of the team has probably gone home but obviously Matsuri hasn't.

Temari knows she should retreat, and fast. Something paralyzes her though, and she's still listening to the constant stream of lusty whimpers, greedy murmurs, and sweet sighs, echoing in the velvety darkness.

"G-Gaara, please—ahh!—I can't—"

"Say my name again," Gaara murmurs hotly.

"Gaara—" Matsuri breathes tenderly. Hungrily. "P-please—I can't take it—anymore—"

He chuckles lowly, giving Temari chills. The wind mistress can still remember that chuckle from before not so many years, and it still terrifies her. Every time Gaara laughed like that, something horrible was bound to happen. Temari hadn't heard it for years. Her first instinct is to run away, even though Gaara is not the person he once was, and Matsuri is not in a real danger... isn't she?

"I've seen Yaoki staring at you." Gaara pants heavily. "I can't stand this".

"Have you been spying on us?" Matsuri asks, clearly indignant. Gaara doesn't answer to her question though.

"You have to stop associating with him," he says instead.

"What? But he's one of my best friends!" Matsuri argues, and Gaara responds with a growl.

"He wants to be more than a friend to you."

"Even if he does, you have no right to tell me whom I can associate with!"

Temari quirks her lips. Matsuri's certainly not the shy girl from before, having the courage to tell Gaara that he has no right to do something.

"If this goes on, I'll send this best friend of yours to the border post for six months at least," Gaara threatens almost casually.

Matsuri gasps softly.

"Gaara, this is ridiculous. You can't send away any single man who did as much as look at me!"

"He wants you, I know it. And you're _mine_ _._ _"_

The last word mixes with Matsuri's scream. It makes Temari jump ten feet high. She looks around, a little frantic. Obviously she wasn't the only one who heard the noise because the voices on the lower floors grow louder. People are calling, asking questions, switching the lights on. In the meantime Matsuri mewls wildly until her voice is suddenly muffled as if her mouth is covered with a piece of clothing, or a hand.

"They heard you," Gaara mutters, slightly amused, still breathing heavily.

"And whose fault is that?" Matsuri replies with a huff. "I told you we should go to your room," she adds, her voice trembling with want.

Temari can see better now. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and there is also more light in the lowest corridors. That's why she can finally see it; the glittering minuscule grains of sand, covering the entire floor. If she went down the corridor, Gaara would have known that she was eavesdropping.

Temari blushes, realizing that he might know anyway. That would be unbearable. She wouldn't be able to look him in the eye! She should have gone once she realized that she was mistaken, and there was no wounded guard at all. She should have, but she couldn't. The wild sounds of kissing, licking, love biting, clothes rustling, male and female purrs and moans, ignited the fire within her all too easily, and Temari realizes she hasn't been in Konohagakure for too damn long.

Suddenly, Temari can hear the loud footsteps on the other side of the wall. Obviously the guards noticed the noise, too. The kunoichi doesn't know if to stop them or go to her room and pretend she's never been here.

Hidden in the darkness, Matsuri manages to speak.

"Gaara, someone—someone's coming!"

His answer is delivered in a low whisper, heavy with all kinds of breath-taking promises.

" _You_ are coming."

With that, they're gone. Only silence is left where the whimpers and pants could have been heard moments ago. In the empty corridor, the sand grains covering the floor begin to shift quietly, following their master. Temari leaves a second later, grateful for Shunshin no Jutsu.

Concealed in her room, she throws her fan onto the floor. Her heart beats fast, and she mutters profanities under her breath, switching the light on. Where there is light, there are also shadows, and Temari watches them, fascinated, as they grow larger and longer. Her breathing gets more frantic, as she drops her hand to the apex of her thighs.

For Temari loves shadows.

o0o0o0o

In the morning, Temari goes into Kazekage's office rather hesitantly. Naturally, Gaara is already there, frowning at the document lying on the desk in front of him. Sipping his tea, he raises his gaze to welcome her, and their eyes meet.

"Hello," Temari says, walking closer to the desk. Her usual question 'How was the night?' gets stuck in her throat. She makes a safer approach instead. "Any news from Suname?"

Gaara shakes his head, completely relaxed. The green hat is hanging on the wall behind him, the white Kazekage robe is as immaculate as it could ever be.

"Look what they've sent from Iwagakure," he says, giving her the paper. Temari tries to read it but she can hardly concentrate. The unwelcome memories of the previous night charge at her, and she can't stop wondering, if her brother, her patient, saintly brother, could really go as far as to send one of his ninjas to the border post because of personal reasons only.

What if Gaara is not as saintly as she had thought?

Finally, Temari manages to concentrate on the document. Not a minute later, the guard comes inside.

"Kazekage-sama, two teams are waiting to give mission reports."

Relieved, Temari puts the paper on the desk. The guards doesn't close the door, letting Darui's team in. Gaara greets three ninjas with a nod.

"Kazekage-sama. Temari-sama," Darui, Matsuri, and Yaoki speak in unison. Darui takes a step forward, and gives a report. All of them look like professionalism personified. The Kazekage listens intently, his eyes focused on Darui's face. Matsuri's standing at the back with Yaoki by her side, their stances relaxed, both of them wearing official, polite smiles.

Finally, the report is given, and Gaara looks at each one of them in turn. "Darui, Matsuri, Yaoki, thank you. You may go."

When he says Matsuri's name, Temari perks her ears. She expects an undertone, a lilt in his voice, anything that would betray him. There is nothing though. Gaara's voice doesn't change at all, not even when he's saying Yaoki's name. The latter is apparently oblivious to what fate awaits him in case he wouldn't stop ogling Matsuri.

Temari's gaze is fixed on Gaara, searching for a proof that she hasn't been hearing things in the yesterday's night. He must sense the intensity of her gaze because he looks at her, his deep, green eyes perfectly blank.

Temari averts her gaze quickly, glancing at three jounins. They nod and walk away. Unaffected, Gaara picks up the paper and gives it to his sister once again.

"So, what do you think?" he inquires.

Temari can hear the footsteps in the corridor. Yaoki talks with his beautiful, deep voice. Matsuri laughs heartily, and Darui chuckles. Temari takes the deep breath and looks at her brother. He's waiting patiently for her to get the document from his hands. She takes it, glancing towards the entrance again. She can hear footsteps approaching; most likely another team is coming to give a report. A few seconds pass, and the wind mistress gazes at her brother once more.

Gaara leans backwards in his chair.

"Temari, what is it?" he asks. There's no lilt in his calm, low voice, no hidden meaning behind the words.

Temari looks at him. Relaxed into his chair, he sports his usual emotionless expression, his white robe effectively concealing his casual clothing, the dark red coat. Finally Temari's eyes focus on the scar on his left temple. _How does the saying go?_ _Don't judge a book by its cover_ _,_ she thinks.

Smirking more to herself than to him, she reads the document, quietly clearing her throat.

"It's nothing, little brother," she finally says. "It's nothing at all."


End file.
